


Two to Tango

by JustAPassingGlance



Series: Your Words Into Mine (Prompted Works) [13]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:59:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3518030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt 'Blaine is taking dance lessons and Sebastian is the teacher.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two to Tango

****_How are ur mad dance skillz coming along?_

Blaine snorted at the incoming text before typing back,  ** _Stop trying to be cool, Coop. You’re over 30. That ship has sailed._**

_I don’t have to try, little bro. I am cool. And that doesn’t answer my question._

**_Because I don’t have ‘dance skillz’ mad or otherwise._ **

It was over twenty minutes later before his phone rang again.

_Blaineyyyy. :-( I’m getting MARRIED in three weeks. You can’t be my best man if you can’t dance._

**_There’s no point in learning how to dance if I don’t have anyone to dance with._ **

_LALALALA I heard nothing._

**_Coop…_ **

Blaine rolled off the couch and wandered to the kitchen in search of food. Learning how to ballroom dance had always been something he had wanted to do. But he had a vision of it being with some dashing, debonair man at his side. They’d laugh as they stumbled through a foxtrot and kiss between waltzes. After the lesson was over they’d go out for coffee or drinks (depending on the time of day) and tease one another about who had messed up more.

Learning just to please his groomzilla of a brother so he could awkwardly shuffle around the dance floor with some woman his parents had tried to set him up with was not the romantic image he had in mind.

**_How am I supposed to learn in two weeks?_ **

_Lessons? My buddy knows this great studio in Brooklyn. Taught him how to tango, waltz, and samba in like a week. AND he beat Maksim Chmerkovskiy in a dance off because of it._

_**Your stories are getting less believable in your old age.**_ He sighed in resignation before adding,  ** _But send me the address and I’ll see what I can do._**

* * *

“Hello?” Blaine’s voice bounced off the mirrored walls and echoed around the empty studio. He checked the calendar on his phone for the umpteenth time and there, slotted in at 8:30 pm on the 30 th  of January was DANCE CLASS. According to the clock in the corner he was ten minutes early, but surely there should be someone else there?

“Hello?” He tried again. A little uneasily he headed over to the coat rack and hung up his scarf and jacket before taking a seat in one of the nearby folding chairs and looking around the room. The building had obviously once been a warehouse of some sort before being converted and it was nothing like what he expected a dance studio to be. The bits of wall that weren’t mirrored were exposed brick and he couldn’t really imagine the low ceiling combined with the narrowness of the room were that great for acoustics.

“Can I help you?” A voice rang out behind him causing him to jump and the chair to scrape across the floor as he twisted around to see who had spoken.

“Um, I’m here for the dance class? I called last week about it?” He wasn’t sure why everything he was saying was turning into a question but he strongly suspected it had something to do with the way that this tall stranger was stalking towards him with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Mmm,” the stranger hummed noncommittally as he actually circled the chair Blaine was perched on.

Blaine could feel his face heating up as he was examined; the girls in his theatre classes were always telling him how cute he was, but no one had ever looked at him like  _that_ ; like they were picturing him naked or something. Self-consciously he crossed his legs as the strangers gaze hovered around his crotch.

“My name is Sebastian Smythe,” the stranger finally announced, coming to a stop behind him so they were forced to look in the floor to ceiling mirrors in order to make eye contact. “I’m the owner and an instructor here and, fortunately for you, Wednesday classes start at 6 and end at 7:30.”

“H-how is that fortunate for me?” Unfortunate was more the word he would use. Cooper would kill him when he found out about this. Or, at the very least, upload embarrassing videos to the internet and make sure all of his friends saw them in retaliation.

Sebastian leaned low, resting his hands on the back of Blaine’s chair. “Because,” he purred in his ear, “I offer private lessons.”


End file.
